Adolescence
by Moth Gray
Summary: You don't like bad boys? Well, let me tell you: bad boys are the -only- way to go, Amy. Don't even get me -started- on gang members!" Excerpt from chapters coming soon. Enjoy.
1. Prologue

I don't really like this introducing-my-story-thing. I figure you guys came to read a story, not my personal comments. This is going to be the only time I introduce my story. As you can see, the title is Adolescence. It's about just that, adolescence. Basically, my experiences in high school, what I've seen, what I've heard.  
  
Relate to it you may, enjoy it I hope you will.  
  
PS: It's a prologue. It's short.  
  
PROLOGUE – Adolescence  
  
With untamed humility, Amy Anderson stepped into her new classroom, full of her new classmates, all residing at her new private school, Garrison. She looked blankly at every face that lifted itself to study her, meeting the eyes of each curious observer.  
  
"Amelia Anderson," Edna Reed read from her class role sheet, studying her new student as well. She sat back in her chair and frowned at the meek- looking addition to her class. "Well," she gestured to the class, "take a seat."  
  
Amy swallowed, clutching her books. 'Take a seat?' she thought. 'Thanks for the offer, but just where the hell am I supposed to sit?' The classroom was obviously full; no one seemed to want to offer up a suggestion, either.  
  
"Amelia—"  
  
"Amy," she responded quickly.  
  
Edna rolled her eyes and sighed, annoyed. "—Amy, whatever, I gave you a direct order to take a seat. Here at Garrison Private School, our students follow orders, or are sent to the Dean for a respectful punishment. Are you going to follow my orders or aren't you?"  
  
"I don't think . . . I don't think there's anywhere to sit," Amy stammered. 'Bitch. Send me to the damned Dean, for all I care. It'd obviously be better than sitting in your petty little classroom.' She looked at the teacher expectantly.  
  
Edna only looked down at her nails and studied them, plucking at them every so often. "If you'll look to the back of the room," she didn't even raise her eyes; "you'll see a stack of chairs." Finally, she looked up at Amy and gave her a false smile. "I think you can take it from there."  
  
Amy licked her lips and let her eyes drop to the floor, trying in vain to ignore the little snickers of laughter from her fellow classmates around her as she trudged slowly to the back of the room. To avoid a book cast carelessly upon the ground, she turned slightly, only to receive an awful squeak from the soles of her tennis shoes.  
  
The class erupted with loud snickers and a few jarring remarks.  
  
Amy sighed. This was going to be a –long- year.  
  
Mina Aino, however, wasn't having such a tough time adjusting to her new public school, J. T. High School. She stepped confidently into her new classroom, flashing a bright, cute smile toward any she deemed worthy, excluding a few and turning up the charm on others. She received a couple winks and returned smiles.  
  
Carl Walsh smiled at his lovely new student. "Minako Aino," he read from his role sheet, gazing adoringly up at this new, bright addition to his class. "Welcome to J. T. High." He grinned. "I trust you'll be right at home, here."  
  
Mina only tittered a flirtatious giggle in response. 'Holy shit – this guy looks like a male model. I wish we'd had cute teachers like him in my last school.' "The name's Mina, Mr. Walsh." 'Walsh . . . ugh. Sounds like some kind of nasty cookie.' "No one ever calls me Minako."  
  
He laced his fingers together before him and winked. "I'll make sure to remember that, Mina." At her little giggle and the attention of his class, he cleared his throat. "Ah, would you do me the honor of taking a seat?"  
  
Mina looked around the room. 'Damn. Full-ass classroom.' "Um, where, Mr. Walsh?" she asked politely, pulling at her mini skirt.  
  
The gesture didn't go unnoticed. Carl only smiled. "Pinstripe, move."  
  
'Pinstripe? What is he talking abou -- oh.' A small, frail-looking boy quickly jumped up from his seat, the desk right in front of the teacher's own. He gathered his books and dusted off the chair, then scurried to the back of the classroom and took a seat on the ground.  
  
Mina frowned at the seat. "You want me to sit in the front, Mr. Walsh?" her eyes sought out and met the hunky guy near the back of the classroom that she'd seen when she'd first walked in. He winked at her and waved. She smiled. "I was hoping to sit nearer to the back."  
  
"No, I like you in the front," Walsh grinned. "I want to see your bright face everyday for the rest of this year." At her imploring, knowing stare, he added hastily, "So I can make sure you don't talk, of course. Now," he pointed to the desk, "sit."  
  
She sighed. 'Way to go, Mina,' she thought, sourly. 'Flirt with the fucking teacher again and you'll probably get detention, and God knows –what- he'll do to you there.' And she plopped herself down in the seat, propping her elbow on the surface of the desk and resting her chin in her hand. 'This is going to be a long-ass year.'  
  
---  
  
Chapter 1 is coming soon, but that's no excuse not to review.  
  
-M.G. 


	2. Chapter 1

Firenze: No, Mina and Amy won't be the only SM characters in the story. You'll see which SM characters are in it and which aren't as the story progresses. No telling on my part – I like surprising people.  
  
WARNING: OOC, AU. I guess I should have put this on my Prologue, but what the hay. This is a very, very mature story. It's prone to foul language, sex (completely un-descriptive, but I won't simply say 'They did the dirty'), drugs, abuse – pretty much a lot of things I saw on the streets, a lot of things I saw in school. Any problems you have with my story are your own to deal with. I never begged you to read this, I only put it out there so you could. Proceed if you want, but go away if this type of story doesn't interest/offends you. In any case, don't complain to me or FF.NET if you absolutely abhor/disagree with what I write.  
  
Thanks, -M.G.  
  
CHAPTER 1 – Adolescence  
  
"I've, like, totally lost respect for any public school teacher because of my homeroom teacher, Mr. Walsh. It's been, what, three weeks into the semester and this guy is probably already betting with his little teacher friends about how fast he can get me into his bed. It's sick, I know." Mina slammed her refrigerator door shut with her hip, curling her fingers around the phone and making sure to avoid the phone cord.  
  
"If you ask me, that guy should get fired. You know I could do it, too. Daddy owns half of the harbor, and with one complaint from his little Princess –bam! - J. T. High's erased from the face of the planet. Or at least Maryland."  
  
She set a fresh apple on the counter before her, rummaging through the kitchen drawers to find an apple dicer. "I don't know what could have possibly made him think I'd be interested in someone who's, like, twenty years older than me. It's just so gross and disrespectful, you know?" Finding the dicer, she set it down on the counter beside the apple and switched the phone to her right ear, pinning it there with her shoulder.  
  
"The worst part," she continued, picking up the dicer and evenly slicing down into the apple, "is that he's my Lit. teacher, too. How sucky is that? I have to see the pervert every single day of the week. Ugh, I swear"—she popped an apple slice into her mouth and chewed—"public schools are the worst. I hate them, but now wish I was back in a private school. At least they showed you some respect, you know? You're so lucky you're at Garrison."  
  
She popped another apple slice into her mouth and grabbed a dishtowel from the sink to wipe up her mess. A familiar jingling of keys made her smile and shake her head. "I'd love to listen to all the dirty about Garrison, but Amara's home. She'll be pretty pissed if I don't unlock the door for her again." A pause. "I know! She's so forgetful. That must be what college does to people. Anyway, I'll call you later or something. Bye." Mina hung up the phone with a small clank and jogged toward the front door as the jingling became more insistent.  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming." 'You'd think she'd learn which key was which by now. Jeez.' She unlocked the door and opened it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling smugly at the pink face that greeted her. "Last key on your key-ring, remember?"  
  
Amara only frowned and pushed past the smaller girl, dropping her bags onto the ground with a loud clunk. She slammed the door shut behind her.  
  
Mina raised an eyebrow. "Bad day at school?"  
  
"I don't want to talk about it," came the rough reply.  
  
"Whatever." Mina shrugged, walking back to the kitchen and to her apples. "Was it Michelle?"  
  
Amara kicked her shoes off and walked into the kitchen, glaring. "What the hell does 'I don't want to talk about it' mean to you? Nothing?" She yanked the refrigerator door open and shoved articles of food around noisily, cursing when she couldn't find what she wanted.  
  
Mina rolled her eyes, used to Amara's bad moods and loathing them all the same. "Maybe," she continued to herself, but so the other girl could hear loud and clear, "you're on your period, which makes you even madder because you have to realize that you are, in fact, a female. Not some guy in a girl's under-developed body." She put an apple slice to her mouth and nibbled, watching Amara's reaction from the corner of her eye.  
  
"Go to hell. And this time, stay there." Amara grabbed a carton of orange juice and opened it, put it to her lips and began to drink.  
  
Mina scowled. "That's so disgusting. Mom told you not to do that. You know we all hate it when you drink from the carton. It's probably got all kinds of dirty shit on it now."  
  
Amara swallowed and swiped the back of her hand across her lips, then pointed at Mina. "Don't cuss." And she resumed her drinking.  
  
"I can cuss if I want to," she took the rest of her apple slices and dumped them in the trash. 'Bitch. Don't you dare try to act like you can tell me what to do. Mom can't even do that.'  
  
"What the hell!" Amara had stopped drinking and closed the carton of orange juice, setting it back into the refrigerator and slamming the door shut. "Did you just waste one of mom's good apples?"  
  
Mina rolled her eyes, licking the sticky-sweetness from the fruit off of her fingers. "So?"  
  
"So you think just because Dad's got a little money, you can waste food like that?" the other girl scowled. "You're so fucking spoiled, Mina. You and Serena both."  
  
"Yeah? Well, at least I'm not a lesbian like –someone- I know. And at least Serena knows that we weren't born with a dick, unlike another –someone- I know."  
  
Amara only sneered. "C'mon, Mina," she taunted, "stop being so unoriginal. This little 'lesbian' argument is getting old."  
  
"About as old as me being spoiled." Mina glared angrily at her current object of hate. "If anyone's spoiled, it's you. You spent over four hundred dollars on your first date with Michelle, just to show her how rich you were. And you say –I'm- spoiled?"  
  
She closed her hand into a tight fist and narrowed her eyes. "Drop it now, Mina."  
  
The younger girl grinned cockily, seeing she had touched a nerve. "You've probably spent over one-thousand dollars on all the jewelry you give her. And what does she ever give you back for it? Obviously there's nothing she –can- give you. You're both still virgins – hell, you've been dating her for a year now and –I've- gotten father in a week than you two ever have in a whole year."  
  
Amara slammed her fist down on the counter, effectively quieting the other girl into complete silence. "I told you to drop it, you little shit," she snarled. "What I do for Michelle is none of your damned business. And just because she's not a whoring little bitch like yourself, it doesn't mean she never gives me anything in return for what I do for her."  
  
Mina stiffened when the older girl brushed past her, holding her breath a little, even. She let it flow softly when she heard a thundering slam from the basement. She let her eyes drop to her hands, flexing them a little.  
  
Arguments with Amara always made her tremble.  
  
Amy's eyes were little slits when Hilde and Serena walked into her room. She groaned mentally. 'No . . . not again. The twins from hell.' She watched them through her slitted eyes – watched them watching her. "What?" she mumbled loudly.  
  
Hilde jumped. She'd thought Amy had been asleep. "Mom said Serena could come over," she blurted out.  
  
Amy opened her eyes a little, sliding them over to the blonde standing in the midst of two blues. "Isn't she already here?" She leaned up a little from her bed, propping herself with pillows. "What do you –want-, Hilde?"  
  
Serena frowned. 'She acts just like Mina. No wonder they get along so well. I used to think Amy was nice, too.'  
  
"Well," Hilde looked over at her friend. "We wanted to know if we could listen to your CD. We're trying out for the cheerleading team, and we need—"  
  
"No," Amy closed her eyes. "Go away."  
  
Hilde let her jaw drop slightly and Serena narrowed her eyes.  
  
"But we really need your CD, Amy," Hilde pleaded, whining a bit. "I promise you we won't scratch it up or anything. Please?"  
  
The older girl rolled over onto her and closed her eyes. "Out," she muttered.  
  
"But—"  
  
"OUT!"  
  
Her door closed with a soft slam. Amy sighed, relaxing. She'd never been this cold and cruel before. A year ago, she would have not only let her younger sister and her sister's friend listen to her CD, she would have offered to watch them practice. Would have offered constructive criticism, helpful tips.  
  
Her eyes traveled over to the framed picture of a boy with bright blonde hair and clear blue eyes. He was smiling happily, the sunlight seeming to sparkle over his features. Clutched tightly to his side was none other than her, a hint of pink embarrassment staining her cheeks as her arm curled around his waist, the gesture so familiar, so loving, so warm.  
  
She blinked a forming tear from her eye, reached over and turned the picture over, facedown, wishing only one thing toward the male in the picture.  
  
'Go to hell, you fucking bastard.'  
  
---  
  
Duo rolled onto his back and sighed contentedly, sliding a cigarette in- between his lips and lighting it with the green lighter he'd acquired from the table beside his bed. He exhaled the smoke slowly, watching it curl and dance in the air before him.  
  
"What're you thinkin' about?"  
  
He glanced over at the female beside him and then back up at the smoke, shrugging. "Nothin'." Comfortably, he put his hands behind his head and let the cigarette dangle lazily from his lips.  
  
She sighed. For a week this had been going on. Her, the quiet, shy, perfect principal's daughter sleeping with him, the noisiest, most unruly boy in school. Not to mention the bad boy. He'd hooked her with his sincerity and dangerous, amazing personality. She'd wanted an alternate life-style from her boring, strict daily schedule. And for a week, all they'd done was sleep together, and then he'd send her off with a kiss and a promise to see her the next day.  
  
"What about you?" He wasn't really interested, but she'd wanted to start a conversation. "What're you thinkin' about?"  
  
"You," she replied, sliding closer to him and laying her head on his chest, tracing a finger over his stomach. "And us. Where exactly are we going, Duo?"  
  
'Shit.' That was all he needed. A relationship. "What do you mean?" He reached over and stubbed his cigarette in the ashtray on the table beside his bed.  
  
She frowned slightly. "You know what I mean. I mean, are we going anywhere? Are we just going to sleep together for the rest of our relation—"  
  
"Hey, c'mon." He gently removed her from his chest and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and reaching down to grab his pants. "I like you. You're nice. You're . . . you know, you're cool. You're a very nice, cool girl." He slid his pants on and zipped them up, then buttoned them. "But I hate to tell you. I'm no prince charming with relationships, ya know? I ain't exactly the type."  
  
She sat up, suddenly very straight, her eyes dangerously wide. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? I let you fuck me for seven days straight and you . . . you tell me we're not even gonna go steady? Or go –anywhere- ?"  
  
'Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I knew this would happen sooner or later.' He ran a slow hand down his face and stood, then turned and faced the young woman wrapped in his comforter. "Hotaru," he said, "you don't want to 'go steady' with a guy like me, okay? If I got you pregnant, I wouldn't stick around or anything like that. I'd walk. Simple as that. If you're looking for love, you'd probably be better off leaving right now." He shifted from foot to foot, then slipped his hands in his pockets. "I'm not . . . commited. Yeah, that's the word."  
  
Hotaru bit her lip, almost piercing the skin as she gazed up at Duo, then away. 'He's been using me. He doesn't even –like- me! What the hell was I thinking?' She slid off the bed and began slipping her clothes on. "You . . . ass." She pushed past Duo and walked out of his room.  
  
He didn't even flinch when he heard the front door slam. Instead, he sighed, turned and fell backwards onto his bed, smiling a little when his braid flopped beside him. 'Ass. Wow, she was one of the nicer ones.'  
  
---  
  
"Hey, Chang!"  
  
Rei cringed at the name, stopping her hasty walk to the grocery store nevertheless. "Couldn't you call me by my name?"  
  
She grinned. "And risk not annoying you? Rei, I'm appalled you'd ask such a thing of me." Lita wrapped an arm around her friend's neck, drawing the girl closer. "Think about it. In two weeks, you'll be the wife of one of the smartest, most athletic boys in school. Not to mention the richest." She balled her fist and made an imaginary microphone, thrusting it into the another girl's face. "And how're you feeling about all of this?"  
  
"Nauseated."  
  
Lita laughed. "Sure. Any other girl would kill to marry this guy."  
  
"But at seventeen?" Rei sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "In one year, I'll be going to college. If he's the type of guy I think he is, I'll probably be pregnant before then. I've only met him once, and you won't believe how stuck-up he was. He kept calling me 'baka onna'."  
  
Lita raised an eyebrow. "Which means?"  
  
"'Idiot woman'."  
  
She laughed. "Sounds like you two are getting along pretty well, if you ask me."  
  
Rei snorted, looking down at the list clutched tightly in her hand. "That's why nobody's asking you. But for real, you're coming to my wedding, right? You don't even have to dress nicely. I know how much of a hassle that is for someone like you—"  
  
"Har, har, har." Lita grinned. "I wouldn't miss this for the world. Little Rei getting married the traditional way—husband picked out for her and everything. And remember – Lita is the name of your first-born female child, alright?"  
  
Rei laughed and wrapped her arm around the brunette's waist as they both entered the grocery store. "Sure. Right after we name the first-born boy WuFei Jr. Over my dead body."  
  
---  
  
Heero covered his nose and waved away the attacking smoke as he entered his brother's room. He spotted the still warm cigarette laying beaten in Duo's worn-out clay ashtray. It made a side of his lip lift a little in an appreciative half-smile. Heero had made Duo that bowl when he'd been in fourth grade. Duo had used it as an ashtray ever since.  
  
"Duo. Wake up. Dinner." Heero turned and walked out of his brother's room, flattening himself against the hallway wall as a blur with a braid flew past, disappearing down the stairs and into the kitchen.  
  
If there was only one thing in the world his older brother was good at, it was eating.  
  
Heero looked over at Duo's room, the smell of smoke still apparent in every corner. 'He promised he'd quit a month ago.' He shook his head and walked down the stairs.  
  
Duo was never good at keeping promises. The funny thing was, he never, ever lied.  
  
---  
  
Chapter 2 coming soon. Review. 


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